


Sweet Child O' Mine

by BrieflyMaximumPrincess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Criminal Lucifer, Dry Humping, Lucifer has burning scars, M/M, Mention of Minor Character Death, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Samifer - Freeform, Violence, house arrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrieflyMaximumPrincess/pseuds/BrieflyMaximumPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam moves in a new flat and has the opportunity to meet a neighbor who never leaves his apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sure, why not ?

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my main language, I apologize for the numerous typos and mistakes you will find.
> 
> Chapter 1 is more an introduction, the story really begins in chapter 2.

"Sure, why not?"

That’s what Sam answered when the kid next door asked him to pose for some photos with the rest of the inhabitants of their building. The kid, Samandriel (weird name by the way), was a wannabe photographer. He explained it was a project for his class. Sam couldn’t resist this argument. He knew how hard college could be. So he accepted to be model for one day, or more if needed. As Samandriel told him, he wanted to take individuals pictures, then groups per floor level, and finally he wanted a picture of all the people of the building together. He planned that final shooting for the summer. He had the idea of a gigantic meal to thank everyone. Then he could maybe expose his work in the building’s hall, if the inhabitants agreed.

Sam had to admit the project was well thought. He told the kid to come back the next saturday to take the photo he wanted.

"On the morning?" Samandriel asked. "I made an appointment on the afternoon with the guy in the penthouse. The light must be awesome up there."

Sam wasn’t very confident in his role of model. He wasn’t the kind of person to show off. But he saw the project as a way to meet his neighbors. He moved several months ago and hadn’t really meet everyone beside saying good morning in the common parts and helping the old lady of the fifth floor by carrying her bags when he could.

Sam loved his appartment. It wasn’t very big but it was his own. It was the first time he lived alone and he found him enjoying that a lot. The building was mostly quiet. He just heard someone playing fiddle once or twice when he let his windows opened. As he could have seen, most of the people here were families with little kids. They met on the building’s cours after school to play. It was lovely. And the price were not that high for the neighborhood. Sam could bike to his work. It had become quickly one of his favourite day moment.


	2. You told me you would be alone

"You told me you would be alone, you little fucker."

That’s what came out of the door when they rang. Samandriel turned to look at Sam with an apologetic smile.

"Name is Sam Winchester. I live on the second floor. I just help Samandriel here with all his things. I will let you guys, now."

Only the silence answered Sam. He was ready to drop Samandriel’s heavy materials when the door clicked opened.

"You can come in."

Weird. His neighbor must be weird at least. Samandriel walked past the door smiling at the stranger half hidden by it. Sam followed him to the living room. Samandriel hadn’t lie, the view was awesome. There were no building ahead and eyes can lingered amongst city to see threw the larges windows.

"You really need all that crap?"

The man had a beautiful low voice, Sam turned to meet him. And stopped right there, like stuck by the lightning. Scars. So much scars. That’s all Sam’s eyes could focus on. Samandriel could have told him before. Sam hoped he hadn’t a recoil. The man stared at him, a light of defiance in his blue eyes. Wooh, they were really blue, like cold water or ice. And Sam had to stop really right now to stare. What was he doing?

"Problem?" The man asked.  
"I… Hum… I… "Sam muffled.

Luckily Samandriel came to his rescue.

"Nick, may I present you Sam. He lives on…"  
"The second floor. I heard." The man finished.  
"Yes, exactly. And Sam, this is Nick."

Nick walked few steps toward him and raised his hand, covered in scars too. Sam took it cautiously and shook it. The tension in the air seemed to fade a little bit. Sam coughed to clear his throat and made a new tentative.

"Hum… Sorry. My name is Sam."  
"Yeah I heard that, Sammy. Maybe you could ask me directly and stop staring at me like I’m a monster or something. I won’t be mad."  
"Ask you ? Hem no… Thanks. I mean I’m sorry. Sorry for the staring… I..."

Sam was loosing all his common sense rapidly. Nick made him uncomfortable. It was like his brain just stopped working when the man looked at him. His knees felt weak.

A flash of light caught his attention as Samandriel took a picture.

"Alright guys. Are you done with the staring contest ? Can we begin ?"

Sam realised his hand was still in Nick’s. He apologized one more time before heading to the door when the low voice told him

  
"Want a beer?"

  
Sam looked at the clock on his wrist.

  
"It’s just three in the afternoon."  
"And?"  
"Hum no thanks."

The man waved a hand and walked to the kitchen. Sam could hear bottles clincked and the opening sound of three beers. He came back just a few seconds later, handed one to Samandriel who was way too young in Sam’s mind to drink alcohol, and another to him even if he said he didn’t want one. Nick clicked their two bottles to cheer, and brought his to his lips. He winked at Sam. Then he turned to Samandriel and asked in a loud voice.  


"So kid, how do you want me?"

Was it him, or did that came weird to the hears ? Samandriel had installed his spotlights in the living room and was adjusting the lights.

"I thought we could begin here on the couch." He was gesturing to it, visibly he knowed what he wanted. "And then I would like some with your paintings if it’s okay with you. And to finished we can go outside on your balcony. In the late afternoon the light must be awesome. The day is clear today, no clouds at all, we will have a beautiful shade of colors."

Nick tossed his beer in Sam’s hand and go sit on the couch. He put a pair of heavy military boots up on the coffee table in front of him.  
  
"I have no shit idea what to do." He admitted.  
"Just be yourself." Samandriel answered as he started shooting with his camera.  
"I don’t usually have someone following me around and taking pictures."  
"It’s like when you paint a person,I guess. Don’t you have models ? What do you do with them when they pose for you?" Samandriel asked him.  
  
Nick barked a laugh. His head falling back.  
  
"Nothing I can do with you, kid. I merely paint nude, If you hadn’t realised."

And it was true by what Sam could see. In the corner of the room were some paintings. Now that Nick had told them, Sam could see that the bodies wore no cloth. But if someone had asked him to describe the paintings “nudity” would not be the first word he had use. “Twisted”, “tortured” maybe. “Biblical” surely. All the canvas pictured angels and the apocalypse. The skies were torn, the ground covered in flames…

"It’s impressive." Sam commented.  
"Thanks." Came a voice in his back.  
"It’s a little sad too, and traumatic. All your angels seem in pain."  
"I like them like that. People always think of angels like little kids with curls, floating around in white robe with their little wings. As if they had nothing to do but to chase people around and make them fall in love. It’s so simple-minded."  
  
Sam chuckled.  
  
"So you maltreat them?"  
"No I paint them as they are. They are no cherub with arrow. They are God’s soldiers, made to fight until the end of the world."  
"You believe in God?"

Sam asked. It was not a matter he naturally discussed with people. Faith was a sensitive subject. People who believed in God could freak him sometime. They were easily blinded by their faith. And people who didn’t believe made him uncomfortable sometime because they seemed too lowbrow for him. But he didn’t expect the answer Nick gave him.  
  
"Yes. That bastard and I have some little war to fight."  
  
Sam turned his head to Nick. The man had some fire in his eyes. Nick gestured him to approach.  
  
"I’m thirsty. Can you give me my beer back? Are all the projectors really needed?"  
"Yes." Samandriel answered. "You would look pale without it."

Nick growled. He had settle down the couch, half laid, the head leaned back on the cushions, his arms crossed on his chest. His legs seemed to be endless like that.  
  
"Is that your excuse to make the girls loose their clothes when you ask them to pose for you?"  
  
Sam swears he had seen Samandriel blushed a little.  
  
"I don’t take nude photo."  
"Why?" Asked Nick. "The human body is beautiful. Sincerely, you can’t tell me you don’t want to know how a guy like Sam here is without his cloths on."  
"What?" Sam half drowned on his beer.  
"Don’t take it personnaly, handsome, but as an artist I want to take off your clothes. It’s a shame that all your sweet muscles are hidden like that. I’m pretty sure, people who don’t look carefully at you miss the fact that you are pretty slim under all your layers."  
"That's inappropriate."

Sam wanted this conversation to end right now before being asked to strip down. The silence settled in the room for a moment. Sam wasn’t sure what to do. He continued to watch the paintings for a moment, walking slowly between them. He was supposed to just help Samandriel bring his stuff up here and now he was still here. Why hadn’t he left sooner? Sam wasn’t sure he could go out now.

"Hey pretty boy. If you’re doing nothing. Can’t you bring me a new beer? The fridge is up here." Nick was pointing to the kitchen with his hand. "Make yourself at home. And Samandriel has finished his own too."  
"I’m not sure Samandriel should have drank the first one, by the way."

The flashs stopped for a second. Samandriel looked at him a sight a betrayal on his face.  
  
"You’re his mommy?" Asked Nick. "The kid is old enough to take care of himself."  
"You just called him a kid." Sam made him remarked, giving Nick one of his epic bitchface.

Nick laught. He seemed to enjoy himself. He shared a look with Samandriel, an non verbal conversation going between them. And Nick carried on.  
  
"As you are in the kitchen, can’t you make us something to eat, Sam? I’m a little hungry. You want pasta Samandriel?"  
"Why not?" Samandriel’s voice answered back hesitantly.

Sam couldn’t see him from where he was but he could swear he heard a little note of humour in his voice.  
  
"Do you hear me?" Nick shouted again. "Sam? We want pasta!"  
"Yes!"  
  
Oh my… What was he doing? Did he just accepted to make a meal for his weird neighbor in a kitchen he didn’t know in the middle of the afternoon?

They ended all three on the coffee table, eating pasta with tomato sauce Sam made. Sam had no idea why he was still here. Didn’t he had plans for today? But Samandriel was talking about college and made them laugh with all the little stories school was made of. And it was pretty nice to be here at this moment. Sam felt comfortable enough in this strange situation to actually watch at his host for real since he entered his home. The man was dirty blond, hair shoved in every ways, he had strong jaws covered with a light stubble and scars. Burning scrars all over his face on his temples, his forehead. There were like pink roses blooming everywhere Sam could look for. On his neck, on his arms, his hands... Sam wondered if Nick’s body was completely covered with scars. He couldn’t bring together the courage to ask him, but he was curious of how he made them. Sam was staring at his shoulders, the man was broad. More than himself.

"Coffee, Sam."

Sam was stopped in his thoughts by that statement which seemed to had been repeated a couple times before he focused. Nick held a piercing gaze on him. Sam was ashamed to be caught staring at him so directly. Nick told him one last time.

"Sam, go make us coffee. Samandriel and I are busy taking pictures."

Sam felt too awkward to refuse and did as he was told, disappearing in a kitchen that wasn’t his one more time. When he came back, he intended to put the pot on the table. Nick was moving his canvas out to put them where Samandriel indicated him, as he took pictures of the scene. Sam caught the sight of something on Nick’s ankle. What was that? Was it what the thought it was? Was Nick under surveillance monitoring? Sam caught his feet on something as he was distracted and trip over himself. He felt himself fallen and toppled the coffee on him. Hot! It was burning. In a lightning Sam took off his shirt and tossed it to the side, looking at Samandriel and Nick, shocked.

"Oh my… Are you okay, Sam? Did you hurt yourself?"

Nick's voice was sweet and concerned.

"I’m sorry. I split the coffee everywhere."  
"Don’t worry. It wasn’t your fault. You’re sure you haven’t burned yourself?"  
"No I’m good." Sam answered as he looked at his shirt on the floor.  
"You see, Samandriel? The human body IS beautiful." Nick said as he walked away.

He came back just a few seconds later and tossed a clean shirt to Sam.  
  
"Here, Sammy. Put this on."

A little later, Sam helped Samandriel to take his stuffs home.  
  
"Seriously you could have warned me."  
"About his face?" Samandriel asked. "Yeah, I know but it makes me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to approach the subject."  
"Yes about the scars and about the house arrest."  
"What?" Samandriel froze and looked at Sam. "What are you talking about?"  
"Samandriel this thing on his ankle, it’s a surveillance monitoring. You know what it is, right?"

Sam gave Samandriel his best bitchface but the kid seemed perfectly shocked and innocent.  
  
"You mean he is a criminal? That’s why he never go out? I thought he was agoraphobe or something. I mean with his face who can blame him to fear too goi outside?"

Sam sighted at Samandriel, making his eyes rolled so high in their orbit that could have hurt.


	3. Yeah I hold on

"Yeah I hold on, I wait…"

Bobby owned him a favor, so he called Bobby. Sam was waiting on the phone, when the old cop let heard his gruff voice again.

"So… I have the file you asked me for. Nick Shurley, alias Lucifer. Charming." Bobby commented.  
"What can you tell me about him?" Asked Sam curious.  
"That he badly needs a dermatologist. Woh Sam, you have to see his mugshot. The guy has burns all over his face."  
"I know." Sam said back.  
"You know?" Bobby repeated.

As Sam didn’t comment further, Bobby continued.  
  
"Your guy is far from being an altar boy." Bobby whistled as he quickly read the file he held in his hands. "He is a drug lord. Like big boss in the city, if you know what I mean. It’s written here that he ruled Detroit’s cartel for a long period. Kid was from a good family, apple pie life, daddy built a big company. And we can say he took the dark path. He made quite an evolution. He quickly climbed the steps to become one of the most powerful drug lords of the country. Used the family business to clean money but we could never trap him for that. His brother testified against him in trial to save the company."  
"What took him down?" Sam wanted to know.  
  
He heard Bobby turning pages.  
  
"Hum… Nothing." The cop admitted.  
"How so?"  
"Sam, your guy popped at the police station one day, five lawyers in fancy suits on his tail and simply gave all his contacts. That’s weird." Bobby admitted. "You want me to call the cops on the drug squad who were on the case?"  
"No, thanks Bobby. It won’t be necessary." Sam said.  
"Why are you asking me about this Lucifer?" Bobby questionned him.  
"We live in the same building. I met him yesterday." Sam informed Bobby.  
"How can someone with a file like this one not be in jail?"  
"I suppose he had very good lawyers."  
"Sam, if you want my point of view, don’t go anywhere near this guy. He is dangerous." Bobby adviced him.

And it was a good advice, Sam could tell. One he should have followed.

So why was he in front of Nick’s door waiting for him to open? To give him his shirt back? Seriously? Sam was a decent person and had to return the cloth he borrowed. Okay, but was it important enough to go in someone like that’s house? The more Sam though about it, the less he was sure.

The door opened and Sam walked in. Nick was behind it, shielded by the wooden door. He greeted him with a bright smile.  
  
"Sam, it’s nice to see you so soon. You missed me already?"  
"I wanted to give you your shirt back." He explained, handing him the black fabric.

Nick took it, his hand brushing Sam’s.

"Thank you. You could have keep it. You know, as a souvenir from me." Nick winked.

Sam didn’t know what to answer. Nick was staring at him again. He loved to do that apparently, his iced blue eyes analysed him. He didn’t seemed to want to help ease the silence which came lounging around them. Sam gestured the door to indicate he will leave now, when Nick asked him to stay.

"Sam I was thinking since we met last time. I would really appreciate if you accept to pose for me. I want to paint you."  
"Is that the new thing? I mean first Samandriel then you. Why everyone keep telling me that?" Sam laughed. "I’m not a model."  
"Oh you could be." Nick stated as he cornered him and let his eyes fall down his whole body.

Suddenly Sam remembered that Nick painted exclusively naked people. And he made a reference to… Doing things with them? Sam wasn’t sure his mind was correctly interpreting what he remembered. But Nick was surely hitting on him right now. Sam almost felt naked under his gaze.

"Yeah, no. I think I will pass this time. I came just to give you back your shirt. I will go home now."  
"Don’t you want to stay a little while? I’m bored." Nick pouted.  
"How long have you been on house arrest?" Sam asked abruptly.

Nick stared at him a minute, scanning him with his piercing eyes.

"How did you find out?"  
"I saw your surveillance monitor yesterday." Sam simply answered.  
"And you’re not afraid of me?"  
"Not really. Drug dealing is kinda pathetic if you want my opinion. Oh and by the way, you owe me a lunch since you made me cook for Samandriel and you yesterday."

Nick huffed like he couldn’t believe what the had heard.

"You come to my house, insult me and ask me to feed you?"

That sounded much worst that Sam thought. But Sam tried his hardest to keep his confidence and don’t show any emotion on his face. Nick pointed his finger to Sam’s chest.

"You… I like you very much."

Strangely, it sounded like a warning.

Nick wasn’t a really good cook but he could talk about pretty much everything. The two of them spent the evening together talking about many subjects Sam wasn’t used to approach with people around him, like art. Nick was well versed in painting sure but also in classic and rock music and architecture. When Sam made a remark about the fact that people didn’t expect drug dealers to have this sort of knowledge, Nick barked back that a man couldn’t be defined by his job only and he was much more than that. Sam couldn’t denied he was right. But his big revelation of how he was quickly starting to appreciate him was when Nick followed him on a discussion about traditional lore. This was one of Sam’s unusual hobbies who never brought him anything but contempts from other people. He resumed himself to not speak of that anymore to avoid being mocked. But not by Nick. And when he asked him if he had other hobbies, Sam hesitated but admitted to be quite fond about serial killers and to have made some heavy researches on the matter. His brother always told him it was a fetish but Nick didn’t even blinked and listen him speak about old woozy criminal cases.

Sam enjoyed his evening with Nick and when he asked him if he would come back to see him again, hope lighting up his blue eyes, Sam agreed, forgotten pretty fast Bobby’s advice.


	4. HicanIcomeinclosethedoor

"HicanIcomeinclosethedoor."

Before Sam could understand the sounds Nick made was in fact a sentence, his neighbor had already pushed him to enter his appartement and shut the door. He was resting his back against the cold wood, breathing heavily.

"Hum… Nick, are you alright?" Sam worried.

His blue eyes seemed a little panicked as he had hard time to focus.

"Yes, of course I’m okay."

But he didn’t seemed to be alright. Sam could see a little sweat damping his blond hair on his temples. Nick was panting. He put his head low and bend over, his knee started to shiver. He was trying to listen through the door. For one moment, Sam though he was gonna past out. He reached for him but when his hand touched his arm, Nick let escape a high pitched Sam hadn’t expected. That made him step back a little in retreat. Nick didn’t showed any sign of improvement. Sam offered him to sit down a minute, guiding him to his living room without touching him. He flew to his kitchen to bring him a glass of fresh water. He handed it carefully to Nick who practically jumped on it and drank it in one go.

"Can I use your phone?" Nick asked.

Sam gave it to him and Nick dialed quickly a number and waited for the other person to answer.

"Yeah, it’s Nick Shurley. They are at my flat… I don’t fucking care. Yeah obviously I had to go out… I know… I know I’m not supposed but I couldn’t stay… Yeah. Of course. What? If you think I will let myself be killed to please you, you are very wrong. Come quickly. No I won’t. Yeah I’m good now. I think I’m safe for now." Nick looked at Sam. "I suppose I can stay here for the moment. I’m at one of my neighbor’s… Okay. Call me back."

Nick shuted the phone off and gave it back to Sam. He closed his eyes to breath, visibly forcing himself to calm down. Sam didn’t know what to do. He just stayed here, making a little room for him to regain controle of his nerves. He waited for Nick to re-open his eyes.

He made it few minutes later. He looked embarassed. Sam didn’t know what to tell him. Nick started to talk.  
  
"So? Can I stay here for a moment?"  
"Yeah?" Sam wasn’t sure if he could afford to give Nick shelter. Were there killers in their building, trying to kill Nick? Would they kill Sam too if they found out he was hiding in his appartement? "Are you in danger?"  
"Of course not." Nick shrugged. "I’m alright. Why wouldn’t I be?"

Nick was staring at him blankly. Sam was confused. Was he in danger?

"What? Are we acting like nothing happened? Like you didn’t broke your house assignment and called the police?"  
"Yes precisely." Nick nodded. "You’re a smart boy, I knew it."

There was a little threat in his eyes. Sam didn’t pushed it.

"Okay." He said hesitantly. "In this case…" Sam tried to regain his confidence. "So, Nick, how many time do you plan to stay?"

Nick frown. He let escape a humourless laugh before admitting:  
  
"Honestly, I don’t know."

It was the most awkward conversation Sam had so far in his life. His creepy neighbor practically forced his way in his appartement to escape criminals. Maybe his life (their lives?) was threatened, and he didn’t want to talk about it and he wanted to pretend everything was alright. Good. Everything was fine. Sam laughed at the absurdity of the situtation. Nick looked at him a little offended. Sam gestured the couch he was seated on.

"Make yourself comfortable. You want another glass of water?"  
"Don’t you have something stronger than water? Like whiskey maybe?" Nick asked with hope.

Sam thought a minute and answered.

"You know what? Yes, I think I could use a whiskey too."  
"Bad day at work?" Nick asked in an obvious reason to take the attention on something else.  
  
Sam remarked his legs were shaking in nervousness.  
  
"We can say that."

The glass of whiskey turned into two, then three and four. After that the evenements of the evening were a little bit blurry in Sam’s mind. He remembered Nick getting a phone call but he stayed anyway. Sam didn’t mind. He seemed to float in warm and easy talks. Nothing very important because Nick refused to answer Sam’s questions. So nothing which needed to be over analyzed like Sam had the bad habit to do. Nothing really mattered this evening. Sam was tired. Tired of his day, his work. They ended up watching a talk show on TV, the two of them hauled down his couch, eating pizza and drinking way to much beers. Commenting the TV was easy, and Sam find himself addicted to Nick’s laugh. The conversation went on.

"Yes I have a cat. I swear this little beast is pure evil."  
  
Sam giggled like the drunken man he was.  
  
"Last day he jumped on my painting and proceeded to cover every parts of my flat with yellow."  
"I’m more of a dog person." Sam informed Nick, leaning to his side to look at him better. "When I was a little boy I had one, I called him Bones."  
"You named your dog “Bones”? That’s ridiculous." Nick said.  
"No it’s not. And Bones was the most awesome dog you could meet." Sam assured him.  
"Did you told him secrets?" Nick’s face was enlighted with a mocking smile that spread on his lips. His tongue moistened them.  
"Shut up!" Sam taunted.  
"You definitely did." Laughed Nick.  
"And what is your cat’s name?"  
Nick think for a moment. "The cat?" He answered hesitantly.  
"Yes your cat…" Sam clarified. "Oh wait… You named your cat “Cat”? That’s so dumb! You can’t mock me with Bones." Sam laughed as he pretend to be indignant.  
"What? He didn’t tell me his name when I moved in with him."  
Sam’s ribs started to hurt because of the laugher. "You live in your cat’s appartment?"  
"Technically, he lived here before me, so yes I guess."

At this point of the night they were sharing a single jar of ice cream with two spoons and Sam was grateful for his neighbor’s weird entrance.

Later, Sam wasn’t sure when because he may have zoned out, Nick shook his thigh.

"Sam. The police called." His low voice whispered against his ear. "Sam. I must go home now. Don’t fall asleep here. Go to your bed."

Half asleep, half awake, Sam looked at Nick stand up and leave. After a moment he remarked he hadn’t heard his door shut. Maybe Nick hadn’t close it well. His door could be a little hard to close when the weather was rainy. But Nick wasn’t out. He lingered against the door. Maybe alcohol was making things difficult. Or maybe it was something else.

"Nick, you want me to walk you home?" Sam whispered.  
  
If he didn’t want, Nick could pretend he hadn’t heard. The man get his head up to look at Sam, a little plea in his eyes and whisper back. "Yes. Please."

Without further questions, Sam escorted him. He didn’t care of putting shoes on. He simply took his key and walked to the elevator side by side with Nick. The light took them by surprise when the elevator’s gate opened. Sam was glad to come back to the darkness when they went out. Neither of them hit the light button in the small space in front of the one door that counted the last floor. Sam heard key noises as Nick put them in the lock. Was that space this small before, or was it him? Nick opened his door and turned to face him. They were really close now. Nick’s eyes were very bright for a space where there was no light. A hand ghosted against his arm. A light touch so subtle Sam wasn't sure he really felt it. Sam could practically feel on his skin what Nick told him in whispers.

"Do you want to come in? One last drink?"

One last drink? That sounded rather like an invitation to something else. They obviously drank more than enough for tonight. Was Nick proposing what the little voice in Sam’s head was telling him? Sam wondered if he wanted to come in. He tried very hard to focus to find the answer to that simple question but Nick was dragging his lower lips between his teeth and Sam had troubles to make things to have sense. Sam closed his eyes in the hope that it will help him think, not to stare at Nick’s mouth.

"Too slow." He heard. "Too late. Night', Sam."

Sam felt a light kiss brushed his cheek just above the corner of his mouth. He waited for the rest to come. But it didn’t. Instead, he heard the door and when he opened his eyes again, Nick’s door was closed. Sam let go the breath he hadn’t known he was holding and put his forehead against the wooden door.

"Goodnight, Nick."


	5. It’s all clean

"It’s all clean." The police officer informed him.

After last night events, Nick had to report to the police station in the morning, but first a police squad made him wait on the corridor of the second floor and pounded to Sam’s door in an ungodly hour.

Sam opened his door in his pyjama pants, hair wild. He was really confused to meet here police officers who summoned him to go outside as they searched his appartement, handing him a court order. Rude for a morning awakening, without even talking of the hammer in his skull thanks to last night’s alcohol.

"I’m sorry Sam." Said Nick.

He was sushed by a police man near them in the corridor. Nick gave him a death glare. Judging by his pale face, Nick wasn’t much better than him. His scars even more brought out in raging shades of red.

Sam had already enough of this day. He wanted to go back inside, crawl in his bed and wait for tomorrow. But he had to go to work and obviously he was gonna be late. He didn’t even want to call to inform his boss. He didn’t think it would be a good thing to explain to him that cops were searching his house for God knows what reason.

Sam hadn’t even had coffe and it was going under his skin more than he could have imagined.

About an hour and a half after they started, Sam was still seated on the corridor’s floor, not in the mood to speak. Nick had tried to say some shitty excuses probably to him but the policeman who oversaw him made him keep silence each time and Nick was reduced to annoying sighs and head turning on attemps to catch Sam’s attention.

Finally a cop came to Sam, his old gun on a plastic evidence bag.

"What is that?"  
"It’s a Texas Paterson Colt." Sam answered blankly.  
"Why do you have a gun in your appartment?" Asked the cop.  
"Because it’s a free country and the Second Amendent of the US Contistution allows me to." Sam was more annoyed each second.  
"And if we send this for analysis we won’t find Nick Shurley’s fingerprints on it?" Questionned the cop.  
"What?" Nick huffed from where he was seated. "This is ridiculous."  
"Of course not." Sam said impatiently. "It’s a familly belonging. I’m not sure it even works anymore."

The cop insisted to keep the old firearm and send it to the police‘s laboratory. At this point Sam wanted just this morning to be over and let them do without protesting. The police men finally left, bringing Nick with them.

Sam was really late for work.

...

 

Sam came back home under the rain after his day of work. His mood matched the weather and his stupid bike refused to let be hanged on the ring where he was supposed to. Finally Sam reached his door to find the complete mess police officers had made of his home this morning. He did not have the courage to deal with it. Oh it was a hell of a day.

Sam was distracted by the heard of some music notes in the corridor. Someone was playing violin again. Was it Guns N’ Roses? Yeah it sounded like that. Sam decided to go meet the musician he heard sometime. Apparently he was playing somewhere in the common parts upstairs. Sam went by the stairway climbing one level per one level. As he reached the last bunch of stairs, a little sweat on his temples, reality confirmed what his mind had guessed. It was Nick who played. The man was seated on the last steps, his back rested against the wall, his eyes were closed and his head tilted on the side.

"I didn’t know we could play Sweet Child o’ Mine on violin." Sam interrupted him.

Nick opened his eyes and planted them on Sam, stopping the music.

"You can play everything you want if you’re talented enough."  
"You sound good." Sam complimented him.  
"I have shit loud of time to practice." Nick stated.

Sam barked a laugh, the first of the day. He sat down few steps bellow Nick in the stairway.

"Bad day." He sighed.  
"If it can make you feel better, cops are doing the same thing at my place that they did in yours this morning." Nick apologized.

The sound of something breaking not far indicated they were even less carefull with Nick's stuffs that they were with Sam’s this morning.

"I guess the programme of the evening is cleaning for both of us?" Sam sighed. "What are they searching?"  
"Whatever can bring me trouble." Nick shrugged. "Someone killed my cat and nailed it to my door."

Sam looked at Nick, horror in his eyes.

"IN my appartement." Nick added.  
"What the fuck man?"  
"Yeah I know." Nick emphasised.  
-"And you’re good?" Sam asked.  
"I wasn’t there. I mean it wasn’t... Here when I left this morning and I spent all my day at the police station. After what arrived last night…" Nick explained.  
"That makes you relativize." Sam sighed. "I thought I had a bad day but yours were worse."  
"I’m not sure." Nick said. "I spent most of the day waiting in a corner. You look pretty miserable."  
Sam sighed. "Yeah I guess." He admitted  
"What are you doing for living?" Nick asked.  
"I work for insurances. Legal department. Customers call me all day, tell me their story and I tell them if it worths a trial or why the company will not repay for their crap."  
"That’s cool." Nick said.  
"You don’t have to lie, you know. This work is as boring as it sounds."

Nick chuckled.

"So Sam, why don’t you quit if you don’t like what you do?"  
"Because I need money to live, duh. You know to pay for the appartement, food and some other things like that." Sam pointed with a bitchface that made Nick laugh even more. "It’s just… Not what I wanted to do with my life."  
"And what young Sammy wanted to do for living?" Nick asked.  
"I wanted to be a lawyer."  
Nick waved his hand. "Nobody wants to be a lawyer as a kid.  
"Yes me." Sam assured. "I went to college for that."  
"So what happened?"  
"Life, I guess. Things don’t always go the way you want. My dad needed help. My brother couldn’t took care of him on his own like he promised he would when I left to study. And when my father finally died I felt too old to go back to school."

Nick stayed quiet for a moment. The silence wasn’t bad. He didn’t presented condoleances, he didn’t apologized like all the people always did when Sam spoke of his father. Sam was glad for that. Instead Nick nudged his shoulder with his violin.

"You want to try?"  
"I don’t know how to play." Sam admitted.  
"I will show you where to put your fingers."

Nick gently arranged the instrument in Sam’s hands, placed it under his chin where it was supposed to rest and show him how to hold the violin bow. Then Sam tried to slide it against the cords and managed to make resonated an ear-splitting shriek.

"Was it as bad as I think it was?" Sam asked laughing so much he had hard time to breath.  
"Yes it was." Nick confirmed. "I take back what I said earlier. Even with thousands years of practise, I’m not sure you could learn to play."  
"Hey!" Sam whined. "Maybe you’re right. But it’s kind of you to let me try. I thought musicians didn’t like to share their instrument."  
"It’s totally true. Give it back to me." Nick said with grabby hands pointing to the violin.

A flash of light surprised them. They didn’t saw Samandriel arrive with his camera.

"I finally have a proof of who is the mysterious violinist. You can’t know how many time I hear that question when I meet people for my photography project. Man you’re like the phantom of the opera."

Nick turned to Sam rather serious. "I’m not sure I like this guy anymore."


	6. Hi Nick !

"Hi Nick!" Sam called.  
"Hey Sam."

The judge had assigned him a counselor he had to go to in regular basis. Sam was biking home when he saw Nick getting out of the police car that returned him to their building. He walked to him as he entered the front door.

"It wasn’t bad, is it?" Sam asked.  
"No it’s okay." Nick answered.  
"Was not the police officer supposed to walk you home? I mean, witness you enter your appartement?"  
"Yes he must in fact. But he just received an important call in the car. All the units in the area must go to the mall." Nick informed him. "I tell you: there is something big going on here."  
"So he let you go just like that?"  
"I promised him I’d be good. Carl is cool." Nick shrugged.  
"Or a little loose." Sam wondered.  
"Yes maybe." Nick accorded him. "So it’s your duty, as a good citizen, to walk me back to my appartement and lock me here, I suppose."

The blond smirked. Sam gave him one of his epic bitchfaces. He parked his bike and continued ahead for the elevator.

"I suppose." Sam conceded.  
"Yay!" Nick cheered. "You wanna check on local TV what’s going on near the mall ? I bet the place is gonna crawl under the number of cops in few minutes."

They ended on Nick’s couch, a pack of fresh beers and pizzas for meal. Sam could be used to that. The local news channel was filming an hostage taking in a bank at their nearest mall and they were watching it like they could do for a football match. Sometime Sam and Nick could hear police sirens coming from the opened window. The night was warm, the fresh air was well taken in Nick’s flat. For the moment the journalists had nothing more to say and spiraled in common news, waiting for action like sharks around a life raft.

Sam was speaking non-senses about how police forces should do to help hostages without firing a single bullet. Nick proposed to a take a bet on the number of deaths they will ended to have. It was way too dark humour for Sam.

"No way. I won’t bet on people’s life. It’s bad."  
"Come on." Whined Nick. "We don’t even know them. I say three."  
"No I won’t bet, I tell you." Sam repeated himself.  
"You chicken?" Nick giggled.

He put one of his feet under Sam on the couch, hitting him.

"Sam… Come on Sam." He whispered.  
"No."  
"If I win, you let me paint you. If you win, you can ask me whatever you want. You name the call." Nick waved his eyebrows.  
"Nah." Sam muttered without looking at him.

He took his beer bottle to his lips but Nick stole it from him and placed it out of reach at arm distance.

"Come on Sam, play with me or I let you die from thirst."  
"No way, mister smartass. I’m taller than you and this is my beer."

Sam crawled on Nick’s lap to recover his beer. A little wrestling ensued as Nick (who definitely not screamed in surprise) refused to let go of the beer and they fight gently for it in a mess of limbs, swears and laughter. They fell down the couch, spilling half of the beer on the ground in the process. Nick was on top of Sam and manoeuvred himself enough to stand seated, still holding the bottle high above his head. With his free hand he pinned Sam to the floor.

"Give it to me!" Sam yelled his hand trying to grab the bottle.  
"Go to hell."  
"Not without you."

With a movement of his hips, Sam made Nick move on top of him. The blond man was laughing madly.

"What the fuck? I’m on a horse now?"

Sam made it again but he wondered if it was a good idea because his body started to have innappropriate reactions. Sam had to do something to stop right now before Nick could remark it. He didn’t want to made a fool of himself with his embarassing body reactions.

"Nick Stop. Please stop." He warned.

But Nick didn’t took on his mood twist. Sam kicked his feet on the floor the most powerful he could to try to push Nick over but it didn’t totally came as he wanted. Sure Nick fell. But instead of being ejected on the side, Sam made him crashed against the couch and Nick toggled on his chest. Sam heard the glass bottle shattered somewhere above his head as Nick drop it to try to regain balance as he fell on top of Sam, one hand on each side of his head. They froze like this, startled. Shocked because their heads were so close they could have knocked themselves out. So closed, they were breathing the same air. So close their lips could have crashed together. In that position Nick couldn’t miss Sam’s boner. He wished for the ground to swallow him now before the realisation could be seen on Nick’s face. He wished for Nick to stop looking at him like that. He wished he could move. But he was stuck in place. And Nick still looked at him, his face too close to be normal, but too far at the same time. At this moment Sam would have given all the things in the world to summon enough courage to close the distance between them and kiss the man on top of him. The man who had his lips parted just enough, Sam couldn’t stop staring at them. He saw a flash of teeth, pearl white in the TV glower of the night. A smile and… He felt… He tasted…

Nick had closed the gap between them for him and was kissing him like his life depended on it, like he was drowning and Sam was his last hope for air. Nick tangled his hands in Sam’s hair, pulling just enough to be pleasurable. Sam retaliated by lacing his big arms around Nick’s waist to press them more together. Sam could tell without doubt that his body wasn’t alone to have reactions. Strong reactions if he could tell. Nick moved his hips a little and gosh that felt good. Sam made him do it again, guiding him with his hands on his waist. Nick growled loud. They parted just a moment to appreciate the sensation. Nick arched enough to let Sam have a look on him and what he saw was gorgeous. Nick’s eyes were shut, his opened mouth let shameless moans escape from his throat as he thrusted against Sam’s groin. With his scars he looked like a demon and Sam found it utterly hot. Nick opened his eyes, they were blown out, the pupils almost completely black. He panted hard and bend over to kiss Sam again. Nick was all hands. He slid them in Sam’s shirt and started ravishing Sam’s body, touching him everywhere he could, his hips still grinding over his groin. Sam could feel warm building in his guts. A twisted warm who waited to crash in waves in all his body. He was close, very close. Nick’s whole body had started to shiver on top of him. Sam was drowning in the marvelous sounds the other man was making without caring of the volume. Sam knew he wasn’t gonna keep like that for long. He wanted Nick. He wanted so much more of Nick.

An explosion suddenly tore the sky. Sam and Nick jumped in surprise like one man. They found themselves seated up between the couch and the coffee table, Nick still on Sam’s lap. Sam wasn’t sure his heart will make it as he drummed so loud on his chest. Nick took support on his little living-room table with his elbow and turned his head to the TV.

"Oh my fucking God. Those bastards nearly killed me with a heart attack."  
"Me too." Sam admitted. "I’m not sure I’m not dead in fact."  
-"Gunshots." Nick precised as others explosions as loud as the first could be heard.

The police, the mall. Sam had forgotten.


	7. It is so hot in my flat, I can’t sleep

"It is so hot in my flat, I can’t sleep."

Nick purred when Sam took his phone off the hook. Sam looked at his clock.

"Nick it’s two am. Go back to sleep."  
"I can’t stop thinking of you. That is not helping me cool my head off."  
"Take a shower. Go outside on your balcony. I don’t know." Sam sighed.  
"I can’t go outside. People are too noisy tonight. Nobody wants to sleep." Nick whined.  
"Some neighbors must still remain." Sam explained.  
"What for?" Nick asked.  
"Samandriel’s party, you remember?"  
"It was today? I forgot. It’s not like I could go anyway." Nick sounded a little annoyed.  
"You wanted to come?" Sam asked.  
"No." Answered Nick a little too quickly. "I don’t like people. They are so happy with themselves." Taking a high pitched voice Nick added "“Have you seen my son? He is the eighth wonder of the world”. That makes me sick."  
"They weren’t like that." Sam said.  
"Yes they were. “My flat is better than yours”. Well hello everyone, I live in the penthouse I have the biggest one."

Sam laughed.

"I make you laugh, Sam?" Nick said.  
"I hope I don’t sound like that to you." Sam answered amused.

Sam could swear he pictured Nick grinned.

"No you sound more like : “Nick… Oh yeah Nick like that”." He purred.

His voice was low and breathy. Was he touching himself ?

"What are you doing?"  
"What do you want me to do?" Nick muffled.  
"We aren’t gonna have phone sex." Sam stated.  
"Can’t we?" Nick asked as his breathing started to sound more ragged. "Nobody will know."  
"Nick, I’m working tomorrow." Sam informed him. "I must go back to sleep."  
"Sam, if I could, I would take you in my mouth." Nick protested.

Sam let escape a sigh at Nick’s jerky breath on the phone. No way he could hung up now. Sam palmed his hard cock through his pants.

"And something tell me you don’t think it’s so much of a bad idea." Nick whispered. "Wouldn’t you like that?"

Sam started to stroke himself slowly and moaned.

"Nick." He warned him.

But Nick wasn’t responding anymore. All Sam could hear through the phone was an heavy breathing and soft movements interspersed with sounds that strangely reminded Sam of his own name. Something twisted in Sam’s guts. He wanted Nick. He wanted to feel his skin. He wanted him now and he wanted him bad.

Sam practically flew to the last floor, holding his phone to his ear to continue listening the sounds Nick was making. He pounded to the wooden door. Sam didn’t have to wait long for Nick to open it. He was just in a pair of underpants who didn’t made much of anything to hide his erection. Sam tossed his phone to the ground and pushed Nick further in his entrance. He closed the door behind them with a kick of his foot. Without saying anything, Nick made a quick work of his and Sam’s clothes and kneeled in front of him. Sam had just the time to take a breath he knew he would need before Nick took him in his mouth entirely. Fuck that was hot. Sam clung his hand on the short blond hair. He didn’t want to pull, he just needed support. Nick bobbed his head, wet sounds filling Sam’s hears. It was hard for Sam to not jerk. Nick raised his hands and locked them on Sam’s hips to make him stay still as he sucked Sam’s cock. But Sam wasn’t disciplined enough and his hips thrusted up a little with each drag of tongue Nick made along his cock. He eventually switch his weight on his ankles and seated on his heels, allowing his head backward. With a grunt of encouragement, Nick opened his mouth wider prompting Sam to go on. Sam built a new rythm, fucking Nick’s mouth in despair for more friction. It wasn’t enough. Sam needed more. He begged for more. Nick stopped him, taking his breath as he stood up to meet Sam eyes. He kissed him roughly before he litterally jumped on Sam who had no other choice but to lift him and walk blindly to the next wall where he banged Nick’s back against. Nick locked his ankles around Sam’s waist for balance, his entire body squirmed in anticipation under Sam’s touches. Sam’s teeth catched Nick’s earlobe and teased it.

"Did you prepared yourself for me?" Sam asked.  
"Yes." Nick admitted.

Without anymore speech, Sam lined himself and pushed himself in Nick who literally screamed and knocked his head on the wall. It felt so tight and warm. Sam couldn’t have enough but feared he had hurt Nick. It took him all he had to wait for him to adjust. Quickly Nick started to move. “C’me on Sam. What are you waiting for?” He whispered to his ear, voice more like a whine. Sam took off and thrusted back in Nick. Pistoning his hips, Sam instaured a punishing pace chasing his own pleasure. They were messy and loud. Nick arched suddenly and banged his head against the wall one more time, hard. Sam felt him clenched around his cock as he painted their chests in white. He kissed him through his relieve and continued to hammer him for several moves again before loosing it. He cried Nick’s name as he cum. They stayed like that breathing hard, pressing their foreheads together until Sam’s legs started to shiver under Nick’s weight. They slowly collapsed to the floor in a mess of limbs. Nick giggled.

"What a glorious mess you are, Sam."


	8. How did you made this ?

"How did you made this?"

Sam and Nick were gently dozing out in Nick’s bed, definitely not cuddling. It was still so hot here they can’t really sleep despite the tiredness. Sam was tracing invisible patterns between the scars on Nick’s arm, careful not to rub on them. Strangely, Sam thought they were beautiful. They were soft to the touch, smooth. It didn’t matter to Nick when he touched them and caressed them. Sam was hesitant at first but they covered most of Nick’s upper body, the bigger one covering most of the flesh in his back.

"Work." Nick simply answered.

After a minute of silence, Sam asked again.

"Care to elaborate?"

Nick looked up at him, and sighed. He didn’t like to speak of that subject. Sam leaned closer and kissed his nose, smiling. Nick let himself soften.

"Before…" Nick gestured to his ankle in emphasis to show the surveillance monitor hung there. "I use to work... You know what I was doing, Sam. The drug dealing."  
"Yeah." Sam nodded.  
"Well this isn’t a path without risks. I got this when I started to play big in Detroit. That was a lesson, they said."  
"A lesson for what?"  
"To teach me." Nick answered.

Sam didn’t seemed to be satisfied by the explanation. He sighed.

"You didn’t learn to stop drug dealing, obviously."

Nick chuckled and added.

"No I must be a little bit wood headed. Instead I learned to be smarter than them."  
"What does that mean?" Sam asked.  
"You don’t want to know Sam, believe me. But let’s say, my burns healed. Not their. And Detroit was mine after that."

What was that supposed to say? Sam wondered, horrors starting to come to his mind. Nick looked at him, waiting for a reaction, but Sam didn't know what to say. Maybe it was because it's been so hot at the time and he was tired. Maybe it was because it didn't really matter to Sam at this moment. Wasn't it ancient history? People deserve a new chance, don't they? So he let his thoughts lingered on Nick's mouth again. They kissed for a moment. Slowly. Nick crooked his head in Sam’s neck, pressing opened mouth kisses here. His leg locked between Sam’s. He was tracing Sam’s torso with his left hand, following every muscles, mapping his body shape in his mind.

"Why did you turned yourself to the police?" Sam asked.

Nick frowned. He lift his head up, annoyance in his eyes.

"Why do you want to know? Your little cop friend didn’t tell you enough?"

Sam gave him his most innocent puppy look. Nick stared at him blankly.

"Don’t look at me like that. I feel like I just stole a baby’s lollipop" Nick told him.

Sam made his best to improve his facial expression. Nobody ever could resist him. Nick was no exception. He sighed and lied his back down on the matress, looking at the ceiling.

"The bad people threatened my brother."  
"The one who testified against you at your trial?"  
"No, not Michael, Gabriel." Nick clarified.  
"Ha, another brother. You’re a middle child?" Sam asked.  
"Yes and the problematic one as it seems." Nick giggled. "Micheal is the good one. He always did what our father told him. Always will even if the old man is dead. The company was more precious to his eyes that blood. He told me I was a freak and he won’t help me. He told me I disgusted him during the trial."  
"Harsh." Sam commented. "But you can’t blame him to refuse doing criminal things."

Nick let escape an humourless laugh.

"Everyone always assume Micheal is as clean as snow. I can tell you he ain’t. We never get along since we were teenagers. I can’t tell I was surprised when he testified. But Gabriel is different. My baby brother is a good person. He can be nosy and awkward but he is better than us. Better than Micheal and me."  
"You love him." Sam commented.  
"The little fucker is smart you know? He is a journalist. Makes reportages in war countries. He can’t stand injustice and he always put his nose where he shouldn’t, but he always makes it home after. Until this time. They kidnapped him to blackmail me. I couldn’t let that happen. My brother couldn’t be more in danger at home than on battlefields. So, I turned to the police and took all of them with me."  
"Gabriel must have been proud."  
"He never talked to me again after that. But he is safe now so that doesn’t matter." Nick told him.

Sam took Nick’s chin in his hands and kissed him.

"I’m sorry to hear this." He said.

Nick gestured his hand.

"It’s not your fault, Sam. Why are you sorry?"

Sam could hear his brother‘s voice in his head. “No chick flick moment Sammy” as he used to tell him in moments like this. Some people don’t accept to show their soft side. They resumed to longing kisses in the laziness of the night.

"You know what, Sam? I miss the old days sometime. I use to love it. What I did... It must sound weird but I loved what I builded." Nick told him after a quiet moment.  
"You frightened me sometime." Sam admitted.  
"Just sometime?" Nick asked as he titled his head on the side to study him. "The rest of the time, you are not afraid of me?"

Sam thought for a moment.

"No, most of the time no."  
"It’s good to hear. I’m not used to that." Nick said low, like he was talking to himself more than to Sam. "I can take that."


	9. You’re Lucifer’s new bitch ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ! I wanted to warn you, I update the tags for violence for this chapter.

"You’re Lucifer’s new bitch? I like them more busty." Said a voice in the dark.

Sam was woken up in the middle of the night, a hand on his mouth to keep him quiet and a gun to his temple. He hadn’t the time to let the horror infiltrate his brain. The man hit him on the head with the gun and all went black.

He woke up tied to a chair in a garage or something. A place he didn’t know. Five men were arguing. One of them on a black suit and a beige trenchcoat was pleading his case. Sam automatically loved him. He was begging the others to let him leave. He told them it was madness. He even made a move to untie him but another man catch him by his blue tie to prevent him to do it.

"What am I doing here?" Sam asked panicked.  
"Do not be afraid. I will not let them hurt you."  
"Stop making promises you can’t keep, Castiel." A man warned him.  
"You can’t take an innocent man’s life to make Lucifer do what you want."  
"You're sure? Look at us."  
"He will never let himself be caught. Lucifer won’t show tonight." The man named Castiel assured.  
"Lucifer? What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

One of the men bend over to meet his face at the same level, his nose so close to him that Sam could feel the man’s breath on his face.

"Your lover has unfinished business with our boss. And you’re gonna help us trap him here with your pretty ass."  
"Stop talking to him. He is dead meat." A man said. "You’re loosing your time with him."  
"You can’t kill him." The man in trenchcoat repeated.

Their arguments ran cold when Nick entered the room with an heavy bang of the metal door, holding a gun in each hands.

"You fuckers are gonna free Sam now and I may let your families live." Nick threatened.  
"Please, all this is gonna end badly." Tried Castiel one more time.

One of the men hit him on the face and he fell to the ground, blood on his face. The man pointed a gun at him too and ordered him to “shut the fuck up”, before turning his attention to Nick again.

"You have a call, Lucifer." He told him.  
"I broke my house arrest. Cops are gonna be here in no time." Nick answered.

The man held a phone in front of him for Nick to watch. Sam could tell there were something moving on the tiny screen but from where he was he couldn’t see what.

Nick’s face paled when muffled sounds came out of the phone. Sam heard him whisper “Gabriel?”. Then a loud creak came out of the phone. Nick screamed powerless.

"And so, little brother dies." Said a new voice by the phone. An english man judging by the accent. "This will be your one and only warning, Lucifer. And now you are gonna listen to me and do exactly what I tell you to."  
"You want to bet?" Nick dead voice taunted.  
"Oh, you don’t want sweet Sammy here finishes with a bullet in his pretty head like your brother, do you?"  
"Crowley." Nick interrupted him. "You better crawl in the deepest wormhole you can find because I come for you."

And Sam thought he was dead. The noises were so loud, his ears must have bled. Sam jumped the best he could putting all his weight to one side in attempt to make his chair tumble in a desperate try to avoid bullets which were flying all over the little space.

As fast as it had begun, the gunfires stopped, leaving in the room the smell of sulfur and blood. Sam had closed his eyes so tight it hurt. He was mentally checking his body to know where he was wounded. His ribs hurt but it must have been because of his fall. His head hurt too but he would be dead if he had been shot here so it mustn’t be that. Sam dared to opened his eyes.

Nick had ducked to the side of the room. His sleeve was soaked in blood. Sam’s blurred brain thought about a new scar adorning Nick’s shoulder. A round one, a bullet hole. Would it be as hot as his other ones? Sam was scared by his own train of thoughts. Was it blood he tasted in his mouth or did the entire room was filled by that taste?

Sam felt brave enough to look around himself. He shouldn’t have. Four bodies laid on the floor around him. The nearest one had his brain blown out of his head. Sam wanted to scream but he couldn’t and he chocked on the horror of the scene surrounding him.

"You’re Castiel, right?" Nick asked.

The black haired man nodded.

"What a peculiar thing you are, Castiel." Nick said, his gun always pointed to the other man. "Back in old days, you extolled non violence if I remember well, and here you are, taking on my business."  
"I try to disolve it. We can’t go on like that. Too many of us are killed every day."  
"Castiel." Nick interrupted him. "You are gonna deliver a message for me. Tell them, Sam Winchester is off limits. Nobody touches him. Tell them all. I may have go down for drugs but it wasn’t my main activity. Make them remember Castiel."

Nick was dark. All in him was threat and menaces. Sam could barely look at him but Castiel kept the stare contest before nodding once more slowly. Nick lower his gun and indicated him to go out as the police sirens started to sound. Castiel disappeared in a second. Nick put a knee on the ground and took Sam in his arms.

"Are you alright? Sam, it’s over."

All Sam’s body was shaken and he couldn’t make his eyes focus on something else than the gun Nick was still holding.

"What just happened? Sam dared to ask.  
Nick shushed him and hugged him tighter. "Nothing darling." He said.

Just like that, Nick planted his piercing eyes on his and lied to him by refusing to tell him the truth. Sam thought he knew what Nick’s other activity was but his brain refused to admit it when the blond man crashed their lips together. Was it tears Sam felt on Nick's face?

The door was violently opened and a sea of cops entered the room. Sam and Nick were put on the ground face first. They yelled at them to not move as some uniforms put them in handcuffs and told Sam his rights.


	10. You can go

"You can go." Some anonym cop said.

Sam was released quickly. Of course. He made nothing wrong.

Nick was put in the local jail, waiting for a new trial.

"He is in isolation quarter, he can’t have visit." The warden said.

During the trial, Nick had a split lip and his cheek was bruised but he smiled to Sam. His trial made it to the national news. Nick was called Lucifer by the journalists. His five lawyers were fantastic, Sam had to admit it. The journalists nicknamed them the Knights of Hell.

Nick was sentenced to jail. No death sentence. Sam was released. He could breath but…

Life long sentence.

In high security jail.

Before being transferred, Nick called Sam to visit him.

Sam had to admit he hesitated. But he came. Nick was going in a jail far from where he used to live. Far from where Sam lived.

Nick just told him to not worry for him and to be happy. That sounded like goodbyes Sam refused to have. Nick told him he loved him. But Sam couldn’t answer that.

He wanted to say the words. But he couldn’t.

The day after, the bus which transferred Nick was attacked. Cops and others inmates were killed. Nick was on the loose.

 

...

 

A week later, a man was found dead in Detroit’s harbor, horribly mutilated. That was Crowley.

 

...

 

Sam thought, one day he would find Nick in his appartment. He hoped for months without admitting it to himself. But Nick never came.

So Sam moved. He tried to move on with his life too. He changed his work, traded his home for another in a new town.

One day he came home to find a large package at his front door, waiting for him on the porch. He took it in. There was no name, no address on it. Someone had put it there in person. Sam opened it to find his own face staring back at him. It was a painting of him. But it was not really him. He was portrayed more beautiful than he ever saw himself. His eyes were dark and captivating, menacing. On his head he wore a crown graced with thorns. His hands were bloody. He was seated on a throne made of skulls and bones, people agonizing at his feet. Sam couldn’t stop looking at this terrible version of him. There were no name on the painting but Sam already knew who painted it. On the right bottom corner were traced some bright red letters in a graceful handwriting: "Sam my boy king".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. That's it, it's over. I really enjoyed this story and posted it here on regular basis. I hope you liked it too. I wanted to thank you for reading it and also the amazing people who left me messages and kudos. Thank you so much.


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